


Tormented

by acidtiger



Series: Tyranny of Dragons [1]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Forgotten Realms
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Caravan guards, Cultists are bad, Dragonborn (D&D), Drinking, Elves are funny, F/M, I bet my background is more screwed up than yours!, Implied Sexual Content, Kobolds are bad, Quests, Sexual Humor, Tiefling angst, Tyranny of Dragons, bad language, sword coast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-02 04:38:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10937160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acidtiger/pseuds/acidtiger
Summary: UPDATE: I've decided to put this story on hold. I can't keep up with listening to/watching a 5 hr stream video to make notes. I've fallen too far behind and it's become work.Story based on my groups Tyranny of Dragons campaign. I've taken some artistic license in some places, regarding what the characters have said, or the flow of events. But, it should be pretty close to accurate. =)This is my first attempt at first person POV. So please bear with. If its horrible, I may switch back.DISCLAIMER: The Original Characters belong to their respective player/creator. The adventure, and its NPCs, belong to Wizards of the Coast.





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My original blurb for Tori. I was going to save it for a flashback, but I think I'll use it as an introduction instead.
> 
> * * *

               “Do you ever think about where you’d draw the line?” I asked the man beside me.

                I had known Davros for a decent chunk of my short, miserable life. We were, at best, lovers and at worse, rivals. He knew more about my past than anyone else, though that still wasn’t very much.

                “Maybe that Orcish ale that they say is made with real blood.” He replied, his voice muffled by the pillow he was drooling on.

                We were both coming down off a multi-day bender, so his assumption I meant some sort of digestible wasn’t surprising. I pushed up onto my elbows and grabbed a tobacco stick from a pile nearby. After lighting it and taking a deep inhale, I clarified.

                “No, what you consider a just kill. How do you justify what’s a monster, and what’s not? Those men, they weren’t goblins or zombies.

                “Oh.” He rolled over onto his back, rubbing his eyes. “Monsters on the inside, Tor. Evil is, as evil does.”

                Davros had always maintained a very black and white notion of good and evil. I suppose it was easier for him. He’d been doing this for a long longer. I was the wet behind the ears cub, as far hunting went.  That said, I had attacked it with a zeal that impressed the others. I had to be on guard though, do my best to hide the rush, the thrill I felt when we were in the thick of it.  I didn’t want them to see my inner monster and turn on me next.

                “That’s something you need to figure out for yourself. It’ll come, in time, just follow my lead. In the meantime, sleep well, knowing you’re doing good.” He added, his hands idly roaming over his waking form, scratching an itch here and there. He glanced around the room, smacking his lips as if he trying to recall the night before.

                “Right. Do good, and be good.” I nodded and took a swig of whatever was left in my glass as I let the words roll around in my alcohol fogged brain. It had become a mantra of sorts since dragging myself out of the shit hole that was rock bottom.

                ‘ _Do good, to become good. If I can’t be good, at least learn how to fake it – so they don’t murder you next.’_

                When I was deep in the fray, the voice was quiet. I think the violence confused the desire for blood verses my desire to do good. It wanted me to rain down death, but for my own gain, not out of some sense of redemption or righteousness. It didn’t want to encourage my good acts, so it shut up.

                It was hard to imagine though, the amount of good I would have to do, to tip the scales in my favour. I had so much blood on my hands.

                I took another long haul of tobacco and downed the rest of my drink.

                “The dreamweed must be wearing off if you’re asking questions like that, Tor.”

                He was right. My thoughts were fairly clear. Clear enough that I began the mental ritual of bracing myself for the voice.

                Deep and seductive, the voice finally came. It promised power, both in the form of magical potential and to physical control over the masses. Wealth beyond measure was another of his favorites. Though, that one really didn’t hold any appeal. I never let it know that though. As always, the clearer my head became, the louder he got. All I had to do was let go, give in to him and it would all be mine. Thankfully I knew better. Fear, loathing and shear will were on my side. I would never be his tool, his pawn, again.

                I tried to change the subject, before the voice got to loud, or I got too introspective.

              “Oy, get to business before I leave you ‘n find someone younger, finer and with a bigger cock.” I said, nudging him roughly with my elbow.

               Thankfully, the dusky skinned half elf was a bigger lech than I appeared to be. He was more than willing to share his home, alcohol and smoke with me whenever we were in town. I’m sure my visits cost him more than a whore would. But, there were things I would let him do, things that I would do, that most self respecting and affordably priced whores would do.

               I felt around over the side of the bed and was rewarded with a half empty bottle of Elven brandy. Between that, and the manhandling Davros was about to deliver, the voice would soon fade to a whisper. Nothing, short of him choking me out, would ever fully silence it. Not unless I could tip that cosmic scale and be free of this fiend.


	2. Prologue

The idea of returning to Teziir was only a loose notion. Somehow, the thought of returning to the start of things, to the start of me, seemed fitting.

Then again, maybe I’ve been spending too much time in shitty taverns, listening to even shittier minstrels caterwaul about the heroic condition.

Half-wits.

Me? I’m absolutely faking it. Going through the motions. Playing the part because that’s all I know how to do. Trudging along because that’s what the tales say **they** did.

But, part of me wants to buy into this shite; my journey of penance, my walk of shame.

It should be poetic, symbolic. For example, this break in the rain, must be because the gods are smiling on me. That same crap the minstrels eat up.

Troll dung.

But, what in the Nines do I know?  I'm no bard.

I’m just a drunkard. A whore. A failed adventurer and a disappointment to my god. Abandoned by my friends and alone in the world.

Well, not completely alone.

The voice, that disgusting piece of an archfiend I carry around in me. He was currently booming in my head, mocking my attempt at penance.

“Torment, my dear, there is no need for you to walk. People love you. Bend them with your charms. If you tried, I have no doubt you could even convince one of these lesser beings to carry you there on their backs.”

There wasn’t much I could do about him now. I wasn’t about to make the week-long journey, alone and on foot, blind drunk.

I’ve tried my best to listen to anything but his voice; the wind, the trees, the birds. Yiralea had tried to teach me to be more in tune with Nature. I wish I had paid more attention to my old Elven friend.

Scornubel, the caravan city. It was supposed to be just a pit stop, but, a lack of funds, unseasonably bad weather and word of bugbear raids put a crimp in my plans.

There was nothing I could do about the weather, or the raids. Not alone, at least. But, there was always something I could do about coin and drink. A city like this would have plenty of inns and by gods I really needed a ruddy drink.

Illmater might have seen fit to somehow take away most of my power, which I do admit is not something I’ve heard of before. I’m no priest. My Ma, gods protect her soul, said my magical aptitude was in my blood…I was born with it.

It hurts my head when I try to suss it out. I suppose I should just be thankful he didn’t see fit to curse my cunt too. Now that would have been funny. But, he doesn’t have much of a sense of humor I’m guessing, god of suffering, after all.

The weather was nasty when I arrived, soaked head to toe and clumps of mud caked to my britches up to my knees. I must have been a sight. No surprise it took a few tried to find an inn that didn't toss me out on sight.

Being a sopping mess is bad enough, but a Tiefling sopping mess might as well be a crime.

The first two inns were apparently too high class to rent to the likes of me. Worried, I suppose, that I'd set up business in their establishment.

It pissed me off to no end that they would go right to whoring as an assumption of me. Like that’s the only way ‘hellspawn’ of above average looks could make some coin.

Of course, my silent outrage makes me a complete hypocrite. If nothing better presents itself in a couple of days, I’m as sure as Sune's tits I'll be whoring my ass out again.

With only enough coin for a few nights lodging, I was grateful that the innkeeper of the Dusty Hoof didn’t turn me away. The place wasn’t a complete shithole, but I wasn’t itchin to take up permanent residence here either.

It took well into the evening to get myself cleaned up and rested enough to leave my room. I took up court in the common room. Tieflings, sexy ones who show ample cleavage, can be sure of one of two reactions. One, the superstitious folk who shy away and mutter to their gods under their breath.  Or group two, the cocksure lads lookin for a novelty fuck.

That night I found plenty of the later present, and while I had no intentions of spreading my legs just yet, I was more than thankful for the free drinks that came with their attempts.

The voice was sure to return soon. I had been sober too long in getting here. I wasn’t about to stumble around blind drunk along the banks of the Chionthar River for a week.

The randy young bucks would have to wait. I wanted, nay needed, the drink and conversation first. Not that I cared about their crass lines or equally pathetic sweet whispers. No. I needed to find out about work. Drinking and fucking were all well and good, but I needed to be slaying monsters. I needed that rush, better than ale, better than sex. Well, most sex. Point being, slaying shuts the voice up.

Shuts him up real good. He hates when I’m fighting the food fight. He worries all my time spent as a do gooder might actually add up to me being truly good, and then he will have lost.  Every time I kill a ‘monster’ it’s like an actual strike against him.

Too much evil in me right now for that though, too much innocent blood on my hands. But, I’m not going to tell him that, though some days it does feel like he is winning. For now, I will just have to be content with being a monster that kills other, worse, monsters.

As the familiar, and pleasant, warmth of alcohol began to dull my senses it struck me how much this common room reminded me of the one at the Black Eye. These places all looked and smelled the same. Rickety tables with uneven legs. Questionable stains on the thread bare flat cushions. The sad sack regulars half asleep at the bar, their faces frozen in apathetic resignation.

What struck me as familiar was the feeling of, acceptance. Mild that it was. Maybe they were all just horny drunkards. But, for whatever the reason, I felt a small measure of ease for the first time since being scorned by my god and my friends.

Perhaps my journey was to start here instead.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: The Original Characters belong to their respective player/creator. The adventure, and its NPCs, belong to Wizards of the Coast.
> 
> * * *

It didn’t take much in the way of talking, or drinking, to get the dirt on Scornubel. The clientele at the Hoof was very friendly. For example, the very enthusiastic red haired Half Elf lad named Rabin. He near wet himself in excitement when he realized there was a Tiefling at the inn that evening. A female Tiefling that would give him the time of day and didn’t, at least outwardly, seem evil.

It was such an honor to be on so many mens' to do lists.

Rabin, despite being over excited to the point of extreme clumsiness, did have a refined wit that I found refreshingly amusing.

He said if I was looking for excitement, other than the kind in his pants, that I could look into the rumors of dragon cultists and odd Kobold behavior. His joke almost made me forget this clumsiness.

Dragons and cultists. Two words that never mix well. I had dealt with cultists in Neverwinter a few years back. Dragon cultist more specifically, in the year just past.

Even with the full array of my feminine charms applied, I couldn’t get anything else out Rabin. He seemed far more interested in a tumble than the sort of exchange I was looking for. Showing extreme disappointment, I left his table and moved on to other possible sources.

Rabin had been generous with his ale, and the full weight of all he had plied me with hit me when I stood. Much to my amusement, and relief, there was a distant muffled buzz in the back of my brain. Mamnon. As best I could tell, he was pitching a fit that I wouldn’t take Rabin back to my room, seduce him and then take all his coin. At this level of inebriation, it was hard exactly what he was saying. But, that was the point.

I stumbled out back to the pisspot and did my best to squat without falling into the adjacent dungpile.  Times like this, only like this really, I wished I was equipped differently. Or that I had a servant to hold me up and wipe me. Lots of servants for my every whim.

That was one of the bigger disadvantages of my liquid vice, it leads to the others. Greed. Sloth. Lust was already a given. I wasn’t always a lovable whore when drinking. Someday I was a real monster.

I have no doubt that if I was carrying around a piece of Ilmater in me, instead, I'd be getting a lecture on the plethora of more suitable ways to endure my crap life other than trying to erase my pain with drink. Though, I think goodly god lectures in my head everyday would likely have the same outcome as that smooth-tongued devil in my ear.

Yes, these are the thoughts I dwell on when I’m alone, drunk and trying to have a peaceful piss.

No sooner had I stumbled back into the common room, I was accosted by a pair of dark haired young men. Once my eyes readjusted to the light, and were fully focused, I was able to get a look at them. Either I was seeing double or they were twins. They looked a little older than me, though I couldn’t tell for sure.

I tried to wave them off. I needed to sit. Either to keep my attention or steady me, one grabbed me by the arm.

“You don’t want to be manhandling me, friend.” I said with clearly sarcastic emphasis on the last word. I was about to use a spec of magic to get my point across, but apparently, my alien gold eyes caused him to let go without hesitation.

He gave me an apologetic look.

The other one quickly spoke, and almost brushed his sibling aside. “If you're done entertaining that boy and his mommy's money, you might sit a moment and have a drink with real men.”

Across the room I could see Rabin, at a different table now. He appeared to be unsuccessfully chatting up a Wood Elf that had just arrived with her party.

The more talkative twin, still brasher than his brother, was looking to a table and a waitress was already setting drinks there. I recognized the orange tint of the liquor. It was one of my favorites. That earned them a few moments of my time.

“No Evermead?” I cooed mockingly as I lifted the small glass to my lips. I knocked it back without hesitation.

The eldest smirked, “Perhaps when we know each other better. But, where are my manners? My name is Barrett, and this is my brother, Iriin.” He continued to drone on about their family, it’s status in Scornubel. The boring things.

I nodded, trying to give at least an impression of caring – having no real inkling if I successful or not. I waved my free hand dismissively and then upturned the empty glass on the table.

They may have been twins, but there was something about Iriin that was far more attractive than Barrett. Perhaps it was because he barely spoke and was currently motioning to the barmaid for another round.

“Well then, if I may be so bold as to get to the point, I’d like to contract your services for my brother.” He said as if there was no way I could take offense.

I snorted and rolled my eyes in his direction.

“I warn you, friend, you had better be putting a price on his head, because that’s my trade. I’m no common _bedwarmer_ and if you’re truly insinuating that, we are going to have a storm giant sized problem.

Iriin's earthy brown eyes flashed with worry as his head spun from watching me, to his brother.

Barrett chuckled mildly, almost insincere. “We wouldn’t want that. Please, no offense was meant.” He smiled wide, but his eyes were full of lies. “It is just, from watching you work the room, I had assumed…”

I cut him off. “You assumed wrong. I’m looking for information not a tumble.

“Perhaps we could make a trade of that sort. You see…”

I cut Barrett off again. “Natch. I already don’t care. You’ve not only insulted me, but bored me as well.” I stood up, begging Ilmater that my legs would hold.

Iriin looked slightly disappointed, but still said nothing. Maybe he was mute. He didn't appear to be simple.

As I turned and took a step away from the table I stumbled slightly. It was Iriin who moved to catch me and as he did, he pressed his mouth against my ear. Clearly not mute, he whispered, “Wellborn Trade Agency. Legitimate work, if you were serious. I can put in a word.”

As I resumed my attempt to find my footing, I leaned against the quiet brother.  Perhaps more than was required.

His hold on me was firm, yet gentle. He had the rich scent of leather about him. I half wished I had listened closer to Barrett. The family might have been trade people or craftsmen.

Silence was apparently not a curse in his case, but a virtue.

Barrett had only watched my actions from afar and mixed in his own predisposed notions to come up with what he thought I had to be up to that evening. Iriin, however, must have been listening to my conversations, forming a more accurate account without bias. A rare occurrence indeed.

I whispered back, making sure my tongue grazed the sensitive flesh if his ear lightly. “Ditch your brother. Room three, five minutes. Bring coin and I’ll change my mind.”

With an over embellished flourish, that almost had me arse over end, I bowed to the twins and took my leave of them.

Mission accomplished. A line on honest paying work, a free head of ale induced fog and the promise of a lover for the night. I couldn’t want for more.

For the immediate moment, at least. There was still the matter of disentangling an archfiend from my soul, a god to gain forgiveness from and half a dozen life debts to make good on. But, one thing at a time.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: The Original Characters belong to their respective player/creator. The adventure, and its NPCs, belong to Wizards of the Coast.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Last chapter of just Tori. The other players will be introduced next!
> 
> * * *

Despite still feeling the lingering effects of the night before, I dragged myself out of bed at the crack of dawn and tried my best to make myself presentable. Iriin had left sometime in the early hours of the day.  I thanked my earlier self for having the good sense and discipline to wash my traveling clothes before socializing. I’d never look respectable. not with the red skin and horns. But, at least I was clean and smelled of lye and sage, not stale smoke and sex.

Sinking down onto the side of the lumpy straw bed, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. I couldn’t help but smile as I thought back to just a few hours ago. Hopefully, Iriin would find his way back to my bed tonight. I would like a chance to enjoy his company without having drank a troll’s share of ale and sherry. Hopefully, he had made good on his word and sent word to contact at the trade agency. Showing up without an introduction would be…embarrassing.

I had enough ale still in my system to keep Mammon at bay for awhile and I wanted to get to the agency before he resurfaced. The last thing I needed was that foul fiend in the background during my chat with the owners.

The Trading company was easy enough to find, three impressively large warehouses stood out. There were smaller buildings, offices I assumed. I hadn’t expected something of this size. On the upside, they looked like they’d pay well. Downside, the bigger the company, the more the rules normally.

I watched from the street for awhile, trying to gauge the goings on of the compound. I didn’t want to walk in blind. The only movement I caught sight of was an incredibly slim, fair haired Elf. He was tending to a dozen or so horses in a very large corral. I made a mental note to check him out later. If I got hired, that is. I had no idea how much weight Irrin’s word would carry with these folks.

I Ignored the looks of the passers by, outside the compound. It wasn’t a crime to stand on the road and stare at a place of business. Despite their turned noses and the ‘shouldas’ and ‘oughtas’ running through their small minds, it wasn’t a crime to look like I did. I got the same looks from a few workers as I entered the gates and strode onto their turf like I owned the place. The looks didn’t bother me anymore, but I hadn’t yet learned to ignore them.

In truth, I had no idea of what to expect. I had just sort of falling into working with Davros and the Broken Skulls. No introductions. No interview. It just happened. That was the only ‘job’ I had ever had. This, working for a caravan company, was far more civilized and organized I imagined. Rules. Schedules. Duties.  I hadn’t had that sort of regimented sort of life since I was a child.

I cleared my throat and pushed those images away. Apparently, I didn’t need an archfiend, to put unsettling images in my mind. I was good enough at that on my own.  Illmater save me.

My thoughts were shattered, thankfully, when a scrawny lad with perfectly combed dirty blond hair nearly bowled me over. He had come barreling down the front steps of what I assumed to be the main office. I spun slightly and ended up hopping a few steps on one foot before I regained my balance.

“Oy!” I called out, watching him dash off and out of the compound.

It all happened so fast, and he was gone before I could get a good look at him. Had he been crying?

I turned back to the office and started up the steps, wondering what in the Nine Hells had caused that ruckus.

“Morning.” Came a male voice from just up the steps.

As I took a few more steps and reached the porch, he spoke again.

“Here for a job?” asked the plain looking man with plain brown hair and eyes to match. He was dressed in equally unimpressive clothes, but seemed otherwise respectable. He was holding a broom, sweeping the porch.

“Aye.” I replied, sizing him up.

“Don’t let them get to you.” He said, looking off towards the gate for a moment, before turning his attention back on me. He was staring. But, I was used to that. He continued to sweep the same spot, unmoving.

I cracked a smile and asked, rhetorically, “Me? Don’t worry. Red skin is pretty thick.”

There was something about how he kept sweeping the same spot. Or maybe it was his speech, distracted, a little slow. I wondered idly if he was a lackwit.

“The name’s Brathor…Wellborn.”

That one spot of the porch was now very clean.

“Ahh. So, you own the Agency?” I asked. 

He chuckled. “Yes, but no. Family business. My father runs the company, with my uncle. My cousins ‘round here, somewhere.” He glanced about again. “He works here too. Though, you might wanna steer clear of him.”

As Brathor got more talkative, I could see he wasn’t lacking in the head. I think he was just surprised by my presence.

“Did Iriin send word about me? An introduction?” I cursed myself for not getting his family name.

“Not yet, ‘fraid. But, it is still mighty early, for some folk.”

I sighed.

“Good luck in there.” Brathor said, as I mustered up my wits and headed towards the office door. He had already turned back to his sweeping, now moving the broom across a new section of porch.

I had barely crossed the threshold when I realized the full weight of Brathor’s warning, and the mystery of the crying blond was solved.

Staring at me, mouths slightly agape in what had to be a mix of shock and disbelief, was a pair of age and weather worn men.

“What in the Nine Hells?” Barked the first man. He was pale, though his skin looked leathery. Most of his face was covered in a short beard, which matched his light brown hair. He was starting to grey, a sign of his age. He was standing beside a large wood desk that was stacked high with rolls of parchment. Unfurled, taking up most of the desk top, was a creased and stained map of the Sword Coast.

Sitting in the corner, in a wooden chair, was a crag faced old man. It was hard to tell if he was older than the bearded man, or had just lived a hard life. Further marring his face was a scar that ran from his forehead to right below his eye, on the right-hand side of his face. It, and the scowl twisting his mouth, made him look mean. Really mean.

“What do you want, girlie?” the bearded man asked gruffly.

“Heard you’re hiring.” I replied simply. I wasn’t about to let these two scar me off that easily. Not like they had, to the young lad before me.

“A job? You? You musta got it wrong, girl. We’re hiring caravan escorts. Not the other kind. Though, you got more meat on your bones than the last one. Those boney little arms of yours don’t look like they’d be holding a sword though.”

“Enough, Jhonas.” The man at the desk said in a firm tone.

I had barely heard him though, as Jhonas’ insinuation got my back up.

“Are you calling me a whore?” I barked.

Jhonas smirked and opened his mouth to respond, but his brother silenced him.

“No one is saying you’re anything, Missy. The names Grondar, and that knucklehead is my brother, Jhonas.”

“Oh, and here I thought he was your wife.” I quipped dryly.

“You don’t look like you way more than a sack and a half of horse feed. We’re looking for guards, you know. Those that can protect the wagons from bandits and the like.”

“Aye, I can do that.” I tried not to light up at the prospect. “You get attacked a lot? Bandits, orcs, bugbears? That sort of thing?”

Grondar was nodding, but it was Jhonas who spoke. “How?” he scoffed.

“Magic.” I replied, curtly and then muttered a word in the Hell’s speech. The room shook like a procession of hill giants was making its way, outside the office. I held eye contact with Jhonas the entire time.

I couldn’t help but smile when Jhonas did that thing where he evoked the name of a god under his breath.

I must have convinced Grondar, at least. “Okay then. But, this is real work. Can you ride a horse?”

“Yes, of course.” I lied, with confidence.

Jhonas piped up.  “We got rules. No drinking. No carousing. Don’t want you doing anything on the side. If you catch my drift.”

I glared at him, my gold eyes burning in anger.

“No drinking?” I asked, changing the subject. I could feel the hellfire rising inside me.

Grondar tilted his head. “No, ‘course not. You have to be able to keep and eye on the wagons, and stay in the saddle. Like I said, real work.”

I nodded, “All right then. The pay?”

“Twenty-five gold a trip. Iffin it’s a good season, and permitting you work out alright, you could make two hundred gold. We provide the horse, you get fed and a roof over your head…or tent, depending.”

“Impressive.” I replied, trying to stay calm. That was a lot of coin, and free food. “Does the caravan get attacked a lot?” I asked, trying not to sound hopeful.

“Nay, but there’s been all this talk of cultists and strange Kobold goings on. And that’s on top of the usual bugbear and orc activity. That’s why we’re hiring extra escorts. “

I nodded. “I’ve dealt with all those before.”

Grondar raised a brow. “You’re not going to bring me any trouble, are ya?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ve got some troubles, but they shouldn’t become your problem.”

“Find the Half Elf, Leobreos. He’ll show you the bunk house and introduce you to Seth. He takes care of the Greenies.” He paused. “You lot, the new ones.” He explained and then waved his hand dismissively.

All I could do was nod again and take my leave. I made sure, on the way out, to give Jhonas my biggest and best smile. I would have to keep that one on his toes.


	5. Greenies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introductions of the other Greenies.
> 
> * * *
> 
> DISCLAIMER: The Original Characters belong to their respective player/creator. NPCs created by the DM are his. The adventure, and its NPCs, belong to Wizards of the Coast.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Contains some GM & Player created slang. Just roll with it. :) :)
> 
> * * *

I hadn’t seen much of Scornubal, since arriving there. No time, no inclination. I had picked out a few other trade companies, in my trek to the Hoof. None seemed anywhere near as large scale as Wellborn’s. It had, by far, the cleanest grounds, largest buildings and best kept livestock. Even the wagons – so many wagons – were in tiptop shape.

The bunkhouse, a large two story building, was cleaner than any inn I had ever stayed at. The bests were actually comfortable too, a big step up from the barely tolerable hay stuffed sacks most inns have. It was fairly quiet during the day, but at night there were all manner of sounds, from snoring too…well…my kind of sounds.  By getting hired on early, I had my pick of bunks and I found a decent one on the second floor, in a corner. The placement of it let me keep my back to the wall, protected, but also gave me a bit more privacy.

Chores were light the first few days. There was no end of things to be done, but as I was part of the extra escorts being hired, there were more people now to be doing them.  I resisted the urge to slack. I wanted to prove I could pull my own weight. If I did that now, I could ease off a little later, I figured.   

The days were filled with caring for the horses, helping Fayelle with meal clean-up and helping Seth prep the riding horses for the other ‘Greenies’.  He was also patient enough to help me ‘brush up’ on my riding skills. I’d never excel at mounted combat, but I figured I’d at least be able to stay in the saddle during a gallop and get the job done.    

I suppose Seth could have told the Grondor and Jhonas I lied. That I’d never last all day long in the saddle.  That the last time I had been on a horse it was a knackered old cart pony. But, Seth was a good natured and patient soul.

He was very much the opposite of some of the Wellborns. Not a hateful bone in his body so far from what I could tell. He wasn’t much like Yiralei, either, the only other Wood Elf I had really known. Seth carried himself differently. He had an odd grace to him, even for an Elf.

Leobreos, the half-Elf, however was much like all the other half elves I’ve known, though he tended to lean far more towards the quiet, mysterious type. He was easy on the eyes though, and good for a tumble. At least, for the few nights, before the other Greenies arrived.

Apart from Cookie, Seth and Leobreos, I did my best to avoid the other employees and hired-hands. Most of them were either hateful towards those that were different – namely me – or simply unentertaining. Jhonas, and his son Silas, fell into the first category. A shame, as I found Silas to be very handsome. He was a prime example of that human ruggedness that inspired countless half-human half-breeds.  Silas’s ‘Little’ friend Anzoun was another I had got the feeling I should be wary of.  He had that sort of face. Cranky. His mouth may have been saying fuck off, but his eyes were saying fuck me.

I hoped the other new recruits were hired soon, and that they were more fun.

The bunkhouse and chow hall had gotten more crowded over the last few days. Crowded to the point that Leobreos turned me down when I finally found him that evening. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised. It's not like he ever stayed the full night with me. Wherever he slept, it wasn't in the bunkhouse.

I was only a little disappointed. He had been my sure thing since I had arrived. Not to sound like a snoot, or disparage a partner, but his lovemaking left a little to be desired. Urgent and full of need, which, I could relate to, and even appreciate on some days. But, I would have rather someone who didn't leave after the first act, someone who was willing to even stay till morning.

 

* * *

 

The great red scaled Dragonborn, Kepesh-something-or-other was the next to be hired. He arrived the day after I did. He seemed perfectly capable in the ‘defend the wagons’ sense. Which was all the job required. But, he seemed fairly lost when it came to interacting with other folk. Not for lack if trying, mind you. He wasn’t shy, just horribly indelicate. And Tyr's beard, his table manners. I couldn’t be in earshot, let along line of sight, of him in the chow hall.

Amemnon was next, arriving early the following day. Another Tiefling. Another red skinned spell crafting hellspawn. What were the odds? People immediately assumed we were siblings. I rolled with it for simplicity’s sake. Truthfully I had no intentions of getting to close to him. Not with that name. It was just a little too close for my tastes. Asmodeous might fancy we all belong to him now and my lot might have been keen to celebrate his godhood, but there are other Fiends in the Nine Hells to throw in with.

From what I could tell, the sentiment seemed to be quite mutual.

Some might wonder why I didn’t set aside that worry and embrace working with a ‘brother’. It had been months since I had seen another of my kind. Maybe the other outcast races felt that sort of kinship. Buy not me. Not my kind.

Last to be hired was Angelos. From his garb, weapons and the way he carried himself, I would have put coin on him being a Paladin.

He seemed no less peculiar than the rest of us new folk. Not due to his race, no, he was human, but because he appeared to be blind.

That is to say, he had a scrap of cloth wrapped around his head, over his eyes like a blind man might. Yet, he seemed to have no issue maneuvering the compound like a sighted person. I don’t understand it. Magic? But, he’s Human and male. So he could be missing a limb and be completely inept and he’d rank higher than a pair of Tiefling and a Dragonborn.

What was most vexing to me about him was the fact he had latched onto the Dwarf smith, Banrak, before I had a chance to. The Dwarf had his own wagon, a massive one, and I could be sure that if there was ale to be found anywhere on this journey it’d be in there. I had hoped to cozy up to him before we left. But, appears the blind man beat me too it. Bloody piker.

I hadn’t seen any new faces for over a day, and at breakfast on my seventh day at the compound, Grondar called a meeting in the chow hall, after breakfast.  It promised to be a boring explanation of various bits of trip and travel logistics.

He had, along with Jhonas, and their two sons, taking up a spot at the front of the hall. I was thankful for the distraction that was Silas’ handsome face. He was my favorite eyeful at the Agency.

I supposed I should have been listening to Grondar, not mentally undressing his nephew and picturing various ways to show him just how much more fun I could be than some boring human lass.

“…two days from now…”

Hellfire! What was Grondar saying? What in two days’ time? I tossed Silas his clothes and kicked him out of my mind, doing my best to focus on Grondar instead.

“…so be sure you have everything packed. Check with Seth if you’re missing any gear, and Wendelen or Banrak if you’ve any concerns about the condition of your weapons or armor.”

I nudged Kepesh and whispered, “Are we leaving in two days? Is that what he said?” Amemnon, without turning around, replied on the Dragonborn’s behalf, “Yes. Crack of dawn, day after next.”

Two more days of preparation. Two more days of freedom. Or, at the very least, ale and a real bed. I downed the last of my drink and stood up, just in time to catch a glare from one of the few other female caravan escorts. I think her name was Villeta. She had pink hair, something you didn’t ever see on a human girl, and a scar above her eye. She had a twin sister, redhead though.

I had no idea what I had done to warrant such a look, so I just shot back with dagger eyes of my own. I didn’t need any trouble from her.

As I filed out, I heard Seth’s soft, accented voice somewhere off to my side. He and Wendelen were discussing finding a horse for Kepesh. Or, I assumed it was for Kepesh, as they were talking about needing a large and sturdy horse for the rider in question.

Seth jokingly suggested an ox, but Wendelen found no humor in the Elf’s words. 

I felt immense pity for the poor animal that would need to bear Kepesh’s weight. Especially with the full armor, weapon and shield I had seen him arrive in.

I waited for Seth by the corral, where on the days previous, he had started my day with riding practice. I hoped, given what I had overheard, that today's lesson might be postponed and I might be able to steal some along time for myself. Perhaps, I could get a chance to talk to the Dwarf before it was too late.

Seth waved me over, and my hopes were immediately dashed by the gesture. He approached, so I went to meet him.

“Tori, since you seem to have a good handle on the basics, I’m not going to bother with you riding today.” Seth said.

I nodded, trying not to look too pleased as my hopes were immediately undashed. When he turned his attention back to Kepesh, I started to make myself scarce.

“Big guy. Get over here.” He motioned to Kepesh to follow him to where a dozen or so horses were waiting, chewing lazily on a pile of hay. “We need to find just the right animal for you.” Seth, leaning up against the gate of the horse pen, looked over all the animals with a keen eye. Satisfied on his choices, he waved the hired hand to bring over two horses, one brown, one white. Seth motioned for him to take the animals over to Kepesh, and for the Dragonborn to decide which he liked.

I was close enough that I could still hear them talking about the horses. The corral area was large, and as I was trying to act nonchalant, I wasn’t moving that quickly as I tried to make my escape.

As they saddled up the white horse, I saw Seth turn and glance back at the corral.

“Tori?” he called out, looking around for me. I froze. “Where did Tori go? Tori…Tori. Hello? Tori.”

His gaze found me, half ducked beside a pile of feed bags. Once it was evident he had caught me, I straightened up and started walking back over to him.

“What, you said I was done, you didn’t need me right now?”

“I said I didn’t need you for riding training. There is other work to be done. You can’t just sloff off like that. How about we practice your weapon skills.”

I looked at him incredulously. Flexing my twig-like arms, I stumbled for the right words.  

“I don’t think you’re going to make me a good with a sword, Seth. But, if need be, I will find a stick and practice hurting my arm with it.”

“Tori, Tori, Tori. I am just having a go at you. I know fighting with sticks is not your strength. Just don’t stray too far. I don’t need you getting lost, or in trouble, right before we leave.”

I did my best to feign innocence, but Seth clearly wasn’t having any of it.

Once Kepesh was mounted, and riding the white horse around the edge of the corral, Seth turned his attention to Amemnon. Using the more docile mare in the group, Seth instructed the other Tiefling on the basics of how to get onto the horse, and stay put once there.

It was abysmal. I could barely watch. I felt genuinely embarrassed for my race, for the horse… After barely half an hour, the score was Amemnon zero, the ground, five. As Amemnon climbed back into the saddle for the six time, I jeered at him, trying to egg him on, hoping that wounding his pride, instead of his arse, might foster better results.

I nearly lost it when I heard Seth pass by, guiding the horse around the corral, “Why is your sister so mean to you?” Apparently even he had heard the rumor. I wasn’t sure if he was teasing us, or genuinely thought it to be the case.

As Amemnon fell off his horse for the 6th time, there was a new set of jeering voices. Mocking his misfortune, Silas, Anzoun and Blen were leaned up against the fence. Two of the three being actively malicious about it.

I frowned deeply.

Those bastards were enjoying my ‘brothers’ misfortune a little too much. Hateful little bastards that they were. Speaking of ‘little, Anzoun was barely a few fingers called than me. I hadn’t given him much thought, but if I was right, he was likely a prime example of Halfling syndrome.  I watched him, trying to catch his eye, and when I finally did, did my best pantomime I could muster – insinuating that Silas frequently bent him over.

He was short and hateful, but not stupid and got the gist of my meaning right away. The smart-ass smirk slid from his fast faster than a wink and in a heartbeat, he started to throw a fit. This was much to the surprise of Silas and Blen.

I made sure to stop and act innocent before the other two men glanced my way. Silas frowned at his minions’ outburst and departed, with Blen on his heels.

I looked back to Seth, ready to slip on the innocent face again if needed. Amemnon was on his horse, trotting around the fence of the corral, on his own...finally.

 

* * *

 

The rest of the morning passed without incident, and I did my best to bury myself in the mind numbing routine that was my new job. Mind numbing indeed. I was bored.  Feed the horses. Water the horses. Shovel the poop from the horses. Horses were a lot of work.

By the time midday came around I was famished. Little me was not made for all this hard labour. I had been on long matches, chases and battles that fatigued me, but this was far more exhausting. Apparently taxing and boring went hand in hand.

By the time lunch rolled around I was more grateful for a chance to sit than a decent meal or cup of ale.

I grabbed one of Cookies sandwiches and took a seat in the a corner, close to the other _Greenies_ , but not too close.

The blind man was seated by the dwarf, who had a pile of food in front of him fit for five men. Behind them sat two of the seasoned hired hands; Adol and Makhen, and off to their right, Silas and Anzoun.

I tried to catch Anzoun’s eye, miming an indecent act with my spork. He didn’t see it, but from the looks of a few around the hall, it didn’t go completely unnoticed.

The Dwarf ate about as fast as he moved and Angelos had apparently grown bored while waiting. He excused himself from his spot beside Banarak and went to talk to the other two men nearby.

The low buzz of conversation was broken by Banrak’s booming voice.

“You, blind man!” he called out. “How can you challenge me to arm-wrestle and then walk away?”

Angelos perked up and stood straight, excusing himself from his conversation.  Arms held outstretched at his side’s, he called to stubby dwarf.  “I was waiting on you, you damned dwarf. You eat enough for five men!”

“I also live longer than five men.” He boomed without skipping a beat. He slammed the table, hard, with the flat of his palm. The cups and plates clattered in surprise.

“Are you going to keep running your mouth or bring your skinny arse over here?” Banrak continued to goad him. “Let’s get this going, and I want to see your coin. Ten gold!” he threw a coin purse down on the table. “Let's go. Right now. You and me. “

Angelos, grinning broadly all the while, made his way over to Banrak. He moved with ease through the row of chairs, walking with the sort of certainly possessed only by a man in full use of his sight.

The scene was a welcome distraction; this place could use more entertainment.  I set down my drink and made my way closer to watch the display as well.

“Ten gold? That’s all you have?” Angelos mocked lightly, still grinning despite the weak protest. “Are you trying to impoverish me, Dwarf?”

“Ten gold. Put your coin where your fookin mouth is.”

“Two gold?” Countered the Paladin.

Banrak looked almost insulted by the proposition and chided the younger man. “Oh, you’re not so stoopin confident now, are ye?”

“That’s enough. That’s it. I’ll take your ten gold.”

Angelos and Banrak had both placed their gold on the table and were forming up to compete.

Seth walked over, stopping beside me.

“Who is your money on?” I asked him.

“The Dwarf, of course. He’s built like one of his anvils.” Seth said, but placed no gold on the table.

“Okay!” I slapped my final remaining gold coin down on the table. I hoped Banrak would win, not only to double my fortune, but to gain some good will with him. Perhaps this was my way in, and the blind man’s way out.

“Any more bets, then?” Banrak asked as he propped his elbow on the table, his hand open and fingers wiggling.

Of all people, Anzoun walked up and looked me square in the face. He said, “One gold? Is that all you’re going to bet?”

I will admit, after my little performance this morning, this was unexpected and knocked me off course momentarily. 

“I...well…that's all I have.” I babbled.

“All right, I’ll take your gold.” He said firmly, and snapped his coin on top of mine.

Regaining my wit, I fired back with, “I’ll take you out back and take _your_ gold.”

It was Anzoun’s turn to fluster and sputter. Behind me I heard an unmistakable ‘ _Ew'_ from Villeta.

I must admit, the game of strength between the two men was fairly entertaining. There was a food deal of back and forth, with no real hint at who would win until it was all over. Angelos cracked a grin and with a previously undisplayed show of force, slammed the back of Banrak’s hand against the wooden table.

“Hellfire!!” I shouted as Anzoun snatched up my gold. I looked to Seth in protest “You failed me.”

The Elf immediately tried shoving some coins into my empty hand. “Take mine, Tori. I have no need.”

“Don’t be daft.” I protested, slapping his hand lightly. No one just gives gold away and I didn’t want to be indebted to Seth that way. Owe him my life, sure. But, coin, never.

There was a stream of very vocal protest and posturing from Banrak that lead to a double or nothing bet on an offhanded rematch.

I must admit, even with no coin to wager I paid close attention to the rematch. Or should I say, Angelos.

He bested Banrak soundly once more. Unfortunately, this sent the proud dwarf off in a huff, where he locked himself into his wagon for the rest of the night.

Maybe there was something to this blind man that warranted further attention. There was brawn there, but what about some brains? I was willing to admit perhaps my instincts were off on this one. He did have that handsome swarthy complexion, which reminded me of Davros, which in turn, formed an amusing mental connection. It got my mind wandering…to which I could only smirk inwardly. I knew it was horribly cliché, but I couldn’t help but ponder the idea of the playing the part of the seductive hellspawn opposite the goodly, godly, noble Paladin.


	6. Pub Crawl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Greenies blow off some steam before the caravan heads out.
> 
> * * *
> 
> DISCLAIMER: The Original Characters belong to their respective player/creator. The adventure, and its NPCs, belong to Wizards of the Coast.
> 
> * * *

As the work day wound down my thoughts turned towards how to occupy myself that evening. The Dwarf was still locked in his wagon, so my plans of friendship with him was out. He sounded like he was hitting the ale pretty hard too, his voice carrying across half the compound as he continued his tortured lament.

I headed back to the bunkhouse to see if anything was afoot there. Leobreos was still making himself scarce, but perhaps the other greenies were up for something.

I found Kepesh and Angelos there, but Amemnon was missing. Both were dressed far more casually than I had seen them before. The large Dragonborn was garbed in his priestly vestments. Their red and gold was a perfect compliment to his shimmering crimson scales. Despite being no longer garbed like a warrior, he still carried himself like one, like he was about to go off to war. I wondered idly if he was even capable of relaxing or unwinding, or if that taunt stature was just part of his race. I also wondered if it would be considered rude to ask if he was birthed or hatched from an egg.

The blind man was in dark leather breeches and tunic to match. The hood he normally wore was absent, allowing his long dark hair to flow free around his face and down to his shoulders. Now that I could actually see his full face, I realized he was quite handsome, more so than Davros. Even the slim scar than ran from the side of his nose to his chin couldn’t detract from his remarkable good looks.

They were heading out to visit some of the taverns and I was more than happy to tag along. I couldn’t afford a single drink, but that had never stopped me before.

Seth was waiting for us outside the bunkhouse, apparently joining us as well. I imagined it was to keep an eye on his charges, rather than to have one last hurrah before we hit the trail. It was a decent walk to the Randy Wench; plenty of fresh air and exercise to work up a thirst. 

Seth informed me that my brother had stayed behind to…study. Study? I pondered this. Was he a mage then, I knew they needed to constantly study magic to learn more. I made note to consider the matter further, providing I could remember these thoughts on the other side of the drinking that was about to occur.

The Wench was neither empty, nor full. Plenty of empty tables to choose from, but still enough locals to converse with if desired.

Seth was greeted by the bartender when we arrived, “Seth, laddie, good to see you. I was wondering if you'd grace us with your presence before the first trip out. And you’ve brought the rest of your…” his jaw dropped slightly. “Has Grondar lost his bleeding mind? I’ve never know him to employ such…such…colourful folk.”

“I don’t know, I don’t know.” I was coming to realize that Seth often repeated himself. “We needed more bodies, these were the ones we got.” He handed the dwarf a coin, “Run a tab for us, please.”

The bartender eyed the single coin and his hand remained held out, clearing his throat. Seth ohed and handed him a few more.

I paid little attention to the exchange, instead spending my time giving the tavern a good look over. I saw little promise in the way of companionship for the night.

The first round of drinks was on Seth. A cheap little brandy that was sure to rot your insides if you we’re to indulge too often.  It did the trick though, forming thin layers of cobwebs in my mind. The dwarf poured another and another, and it wasn’t long before those cobwebs were as thick as tree roots, filling up my head and forcing out clear thought.

Angelos seemed to be as drunk as I, while Seth seemed completely sober. Kepesh, despite his great size was four sheets to the wind from the small amount of alcohol.

I had no idea if it was the brandy or a Dragonborn preference, but Kepesh picked a table of the most physically unattractive women I had ever seen, to approach. Don't get me wrong, the shape of your face, color of your hair or size of your rump shouldn't disqualify you from a good tumble now and then, but Selune’s tits they were homely.

Kepesh placed his hand over his glass and murmured a magic word. The liquid in the glass flickered and glowed bright.

“Excuse me, ladies.” He set the cup down on the table and their faces light up similarly in surprise.

“What is **_that_**?!” the homeliest of the three asked as they all glanced from the Dragonborn, to the cup and back.

“Might I inquire if you’ve ever met a Dragonborn before?” Kepesh asked.

She fluffed her hair, betraying several bald patches underneath. “I’ve seen all types in this town, big guy.”

“I have been to lands far and wide, and seen all sorts of creatures, but you my dear, are a rare gem.”

She looked to her friends, then to the bar, at us. “How much has this fella had to drink?” she looked back to Kepesh.  “Well. Have a seat, handsome.”

With all the grace of a troll, the red scaled Cleric flopped himself down into an empty chair at their table. Having imbibed a great deal of alcohol already, Kepesh missed the chair completely and ended up sprawled on the floor, on his rump.

Laughing heartily, all three ladies stood and went to Kepesh, helping him into a chair. The woman he had been primarily speaking with slipped into his lap, making herself comfortable. She giggled up at him like a girl a fraction of her age.

I am utterly certain my mouth had to have been agape. I had to give him credit, he was even more brazen than I. For the moment, watching him woo the ugly woman was even more entertaining than trying to find a tumble if my own.

“All the battles I’ve fought,” Kepesh continued. “…well, you kind of remind me of a female orc.”

I winced. He had been doing so well up to that point. What was he thinking? Was that a compliment where he was from? The old woman took the words right from my mind. They all stopped laughing at once.

“A female orc!” she exclaimed, extracting herself from his lap. Once on her feet she reached in and patted him lightly on the snout before kissing him on the nose.  “That’s all you’ll be getting out of me, tonight, ya great oaf.” She started to walk off towards the jakes.

Angelos was headed back from that direction himself, more than a little wobble in his step. “My dear, lady, you misunderstand him. He is still learning our common language and has yet to learn the difference between an Orc and an Elf.”

The woman smiled wide, gaps in her teeth prominently displayed. “Are you saying he thinks I’m an Elven beauty?” It was said with a straight face, and I was holding back laughter so large I thought it would blow out my navel. Kepesh wasn’t laughing either, in fact, he uttered a low growl in approval of Angelos’ words.

Thankfully, as I didn’t think I could contain myself much longer, the homely woman took Kepesh’s claw and lead him out the door.

After they left, I exchanged wide eyed looks with the barkeep and Seth. “Did that just bloody happen?” I asked.

The barkeep, still in a state of minor shock as well, took a bottle from beneath the wooden bar and uncorked it. “Aye lass, though I don’ think ‘nyone would believe you, if ye told them.”

Angelos closed the distance, joining us at the bar as the Dwarf refilled our glasses with the silvery liquid. This including a stiff one for himself, he was still shaking his head in disbelief. “That show deserves some of the good stuff.”

I made the mistake of underestimating just how good the good stuff was, knocking it back and emptying the glass after a silent toast to Kepesh. It hit me like a mule’s kick, burning my throat and belly immediately and I couldn’t help but cough. I knew the voice wouldn’t be bothering me tonight, tumble or not.

Turning my attention to Angelos now, I decided to address some of the questions on my mind. I gave him a good-natured slap on the arm, to get his attention, and then said. “Don’t take this as a slight, but what good is a blind man on a job like this? I suspected, as a man with a sword and no sight, it had to be a question he heard often.

He laughed lightly and turned his head, to look in my general direction. I suppose I should feel blessed to have a conversation with a man, and for once, not have him staring at my chest. That said, there was something about not making eye contact with someone that was unnerving to me.

“No one suspects the blind man.” He said simply, before taking another sip from his glass.

“Well, no, of course not, he’s blind. You’ve obviously got strength on your side, and wits. That was a stroke of genius, pulling it out of the crap pot for Kepesh. But, how on Toril do you know where to point your, sword. Or, better yet, who to stick it in.”

It was Seth’s turn to chuckle lightly, as he listened to me question Angelos.

“I can tell by the voice. I have a good sense of these things.” He said, turning his head turning to the direction of Seth’s, for a moment, before looking back to me.

I tilted my head, grinning, “The voice? I don’t mean your prick; I mean your actual sword.”

He laughed, blushing every so slightly, “When you’ve been blind as long as I have, you can just tell where things are. Like, the way a bat can find its way at night.”

“A bat? I don’t even…what do you mean? If you say so, blind man…”

“When you’ve spent time in enough caves…”

I quirked a brow, “Crawling around in caves? Whatever for?” I had no idea what he was getting at.

Angelos fell silent, like a man who had only just realized he had said too much. Ironically, he glanced around the room, as if looking for a quick out.

As if on queue, to break the awkward silence, Blen burst into the tavern. After a moment of glancing around wildly, his gaze fell on Seth and he scurried over. Very much out of breath, he did his best to talk, “Mr. Seth, Mr. Seth. Grondar sent me to find you. We’re leaving tomorrow. Sunup. So, you all had better get back.” He placed a hand on the edge of the bar, bracing himself as he doubled over to try to catch his breath. He took several ragged breathes before he finally stopped wheezing.

Seth nodded, “Alright then, we had better find Kepesh then.”

“What?” Blen’s eyes bugged out in horror, “You’ve lost one of them!?”

“No, Blen. No. Everything is okay.” Seth said, holding his hands up in a reassuring gesture. “Calm down. We know where Kepesh is.”

“Okay, okay. All right. All right.” Blen was close to hyperventilating again.

“Blen, no. Calm down. Go…go back. We’ll be back soon.”

I watched the exchange, more than a little annoyed that the plans for the evening had suddenly changed. Angelos’ expression mirrored what I was feeling. It was too early for the fun to end, especially not with the splendid buzz I already had.

As if reading my mind, Angelos said. “Where is the next tavern? I’m ready to move on…”

“Here. Here.” I cheered with overly animated arm waving, before linking one if my arms in his. “I’m with you, big guy.”

“Tori. No.” Seth protested. “I need to get your asses back into your bunks for the night.”

“Oh, come now, Seth. We're not children.” I complained.

Angelos, apparently more drunk than I had realized, piped up and said, “Blind man has needs! Manly needs!” He was pushing away from the bar. As my arm was still entwined in his, I was swept along a step or two with him.

Seth looked from Angelos, to Blen, and back to Angelos. He signed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose in resigned frustration.

“Tori, I need to go talk to those fine ladies to find out where their friend took Kepesh. Will you take care of Angelos please, see that he gets back to the bunkhouse as well?”

“Yes boss, of course.” Whatever got me to the next tavern. This one was now a dead end.

Seth fished a gold coin from his belt pouch and placed it in my hand. “Buy whatever you want, just be on time.” This time I accepted the coin, as he had entrusted me with a task.

Seth left to go talk with the two locals. I watched them for a long moment, and it looked like they were giving him a hard time. Perhaps they wanted a little of what their friend had gotten. Despite the exchange taking awhile, Seth didn’t lose his temper. In fact, he motioned to the barkeep to send over a round of drinks for the ladies. That seemed to loosen their lips, as Seth was soon out the door to retrieve Kepesh.

Angelos and I exited only a moment or two after Seth, but when I glanced around, he was nowhere to be seen. If I were sober, I might have reflected on the absurdity of letting a blind man – a drunken blind man – lead me anywhere. He had said he was looking for a tumble, and I had already planned on doing the very same thing myself, so it seemed like a wise course of action. Besides, early morning departure meant time was short and running out. Furthermore, Seth _had_ said to take care of him.

As Angelos started to head off up the cobblestone street, I yanked on his arm and dragged him into the narrow alleyway between the tavern and it’s neighbour.

He didn’t pull away, but did give me a puzzled look.

I explained, before he could protest. “It’ll be quicker this way.” In my state, the double meaning was lost on me.

“Ah! A shortcut, excellent idea.” He changed course with me and headed down the alleyway as well.

We had made it half way down the narrow alleyway before I tripped over some piece of trash or perhaps even my own feet. I stumbled a few steps. Had I not still been holding onto Angelos’ arm, I probably would have fallen flat on my horns. Instead, he moved to caught me, and due to momentum, I spun around in his path. With me suddenly underfoot, he tripped over my tail, stepping on it roughly. As he faltered, I grabbed onto him and we both slammed into the hard stone outer wall of the Wench.

Had I a plan, it might have looked just like this, apart from the tail stomping. That hurt like the hells.

He cursed and tried to extricate himself from me, as I was still holding onto him, and I was pinned to the wall.

Sloppy as it was, I seized the opportunity and rolled with it. When he pulled away, I stayed close. Leaning in, I pressed my slight form against his much taller, far more muscular frame. “You know, Seth did say to take care of you.” I said in a low, whisper, looking up at him. “And, you made it pretty clear what you needed taking care of. There isn’t really any reason to go to another tavern…” I let go of my grip on his arm.

The scrap of cloth that covered his eyes raised slightly as his brows shot halfway up his forehead in surprise.

Angelos cleared his throat, his voice seeming to have failed him. “I don’t think that's what he had in mind.” He said after a long, silent moment.

“No, probably not.” I’m sure my ridiculous grin had grown in proportion with his surprise. “But, it makes fine sense. After all, it’s on both our minds.” Behind me, my tail flicked back and forth, twitching like a cat’s. “Needs, that is.” I clarified. My hands moved to the front of his leather britches.

“I...I did say that…out loud, didn’t I?” He seemed to sober a little, as the situation shifted.

I nodded in response, forgetting for a moment that he couldn’t see it. “Yes, yes you did.” I purred as I fumbled with his belt. “And I am more than willing to help you out in that matter.” After all these years, I had learned a trick or two when it came to getting my way into armor, so his leathers were not a problem. I kept my gaze upturned, on his face.

Angelos opened his mouth to reply, but all that he managed to utter was a soft gasp in surprise as my roaming hands found their prize.

“Perhaps, that is, if your vows don’t prohibit sharing a bed with the likes of me, we should take this back to the compound. I am a lot of things, but a back-alley whore is not one of them.” I said, continuing to coax him both verbally and physically. I caught the subtle change in his breathing and grinned wickedly.

He shifted, leaning back against the opposite wall for support, his legs bent slightly. It was my turn to pin him. “Well, we can’t have anyone thinking that, can we?” He whispered, his look of surprise rapidly turning to amusement. He reached up to run a finger along one of my horns curiously. “We should probably head back to the bunkhouse then.” He added, his tongue wetting his lips subconsciously.

“We probably, definitely should.” I whispered back before withdrawing my hand from inside his britches, reluctantly. Were I prone to such thoughts, I would say the gods were smiling on me tonight.

He uttered the smallest of sighs and swallowed hard, as if trying to regain some composure. When he started back down the alley in the direction we came from, it was with long, quick strides that I had to hurry to keep up with.  Apparently, I wasn’t the only one feeling…blessed.

As we stepped back out onto the public eye, Angelos raised his voice far above normal conversation level. “Thank you, Lass. I don’t know what I would have done with out your aid in finding my lost coin purse. So kind of you to assist this helpless blind man.”

I murmured a weak sound of confusion as I fell into step beside him, having no clue what that was about. Upon hearing it, he gave me a slight nudge, and whispered conspiratorially, “On the chance someone saw us exit the alleyway together.” He turned his head slightly, to grin down at me, “To protect your honor, of course.”

“Oh!” I whispered in kind, unable to suppress a giggle, I snorted. “My honor…”

As we passed the other alleyway, on the opposite side of the Wench, I could have sworn I heard Seth’s voice coming from within. And was that Draconic?

I didn’t recall anything else from the rest of the evening, other than a vague memory of stopping Angelos on the way home, to do up the front of his leather breeches…only to yank them off him as soon as we arrived.

I’m fairly certain we both enjoyed the night. I knew I did, at least. I woke up early the next morning feeling like I had just gotten out of the saddle, rather than ready to get into one.


	7. Enter the Kobold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last PC joins the group.  
> The last installment of session 1.  
> I'm so behind....
> 
> * * *

I was dog tired the next morning, but when Wendelin came to rouse the other escorts, I was already awake and getting cleaned up. All around me there were tired groans. A few beds down, I could see the red scaled lump that was Kepesh, still under the covers and, still snoring loudly. No surprise, it sounded like a dragon’s roar. As I passed Angelos’ bed, I leaned in and placed a light kiss on his forehead. He must have been close to waking, because his hands started to move about, patting down the bed as if searching for something. Me? I smiled at the notion, but didn’t stick around to see if I was right. 

I hurried down the bunkhouse stairs, to where Cookie had prepared a light breakfast that would travel well. Amemnon and Seth were already there, grabbing something to eat. I nodded to them both, and Seth gave me the strangest little smirk.  I started to head out of the chow hall, but then stopped, going back to where the Elf stood. It took me a moment, as I was juggling food and drink in my hands, but I managed to fish a gold coin out of my pocket. I flipped it towards Seth. 

“From last night. Didn’t need it.” I said, clicking my tongue.

He caught it, and shook his head. “Tori, Tori, Tori. Get going. Don’t want Grondar to have any reason to yell at you.” 

I bee-lined for the door, and once outside, straight to my horse. The food was tucked away for later. I might not have had a splitting headache from the night before, but my stomach was urging me to wait a bit longer before putting food into it. 

When the other Greenies arrived, we were instructed to take up a spot in the middle section of the wagon train. Before long, we were on the road. 

By the time we had reached the rolling plains between Scornubel and the river, I had fallen into a monotonous rhythm.  Ahead of me, I could see Seth and Kepesh joking about the night before. Behind me as Amemnon, who looked like he was concentrating to the full of his ability, to keep on the horse. I caught sight of Angelos a couple of times, as he road up and down on the other side of the column of wagons. 

After he was done joking with Kepesh, Seth brought his horse along side of mine. After a few exchanged pleasantries, he asked, “So, Tori, what were you doing before Grondar hired you?” his tone suggested genuine curiosity. 

 “Monster hunting.” I said blandly, not really wishing to elaborate. I lost sight of Angelos, between the wagons. To my surprise, he appeared on Seth’s right. I did my best to suppress a smile, not wanting to appear like a foolish little girl. Or worse, desperate like Kepesh’s lady friend from the night before. 

 “Monster hunting?” Seth repeated, thoughtfully. “Tell me more. What was the most difficult creature you’ve brought down?”  

 “Hard to say, really.” I replied with a shrug. “I mean, it was a co-ordinated effort. I was with an adventuring company. I didn’t do any of it alone.” And they left me, which is why I don’t do it anymore, I said to myself. 

Angelos stayed a long moment, listening silently. As quietly as he appeared, he urged his horse on, riding up towards the front of the column. 

Seth stayed at my side, trying to pull more about my past out of me. Thankfully, I was rescued by a rider from the front of the caravan. 

 “Mr. Seth, the lead wagon is stuck on a rock.” The young rider said, “Mr. Grondar wants you to bring up your greenhorns to fix it.” As I looked on ahead, I noticed the wagons were coming to a halt, one by one. 

 “Come on, Greenies.” Seth called out, standing up in his stirrups as he looked around for the rest of his charges. “To the front. Work to do.” 

I pushed my horse into a trot, catching up with Kepesh and then Angelos. Seth was behind us, with Amemnon, no doubt making sure he didn’t fall off his horse. As we moved away from the wagon’s we were entrusted with, a few of the other, more seasoned escorts, fell in to fill the gaps. I also saw Grondar and Jhonas riding back as well. 

When we arrived at the lead wagon, it was indeed stuck on a rock.  I don’t know how the others had missed it, but I noticed right away. There were drag marks from the side of the trail, to the rock.  

On the opposite side of the road there was a clearing, and a set of ancient standing stones. 

“We need to find something to use as a lever.” Amemnon said, glancing around. I could tell by the change in his expression, that he too had noticed the drag marks.  

 “Seth…this doesn’t look like it was an accident.” I called back, over my shoulder as a I peered down at the ground. The brawn of the group was discussing how to free the wagon and I left them to it, moving around to the other side of the wagon, for values of a culprit. Makhen and Wyndellion were there, keeping an eye out. 

A flash of color caught my eye. Something had moved behind one of the large stones. 

The rest happened so quickly. A stone came whizzing through the air, narrowly missing me and from the sounds of it, hitting Amemnon. “What the??” I heard him cry out. 

As I looked back towards the direction it came from, I saw Makhen, Wendelin and Seth sprint off towards the clearing. Still not sure of what they had seen, I started running in the same direction, none the less. As I cleared the ring of stones, I saw that same flash of brown. Scales? One, two, three more steps and I was finally able to tell what they were.  

Kobolds. Filthy vermin, barely even worthy of being called a ‘monster’. 

I wound up, casting quickly, and lobbed a handful of molten fire at the little lizard. It hit the creature square in the chest, bursting into flames and dying instantly. 

Still running, I glanced left and right, looking for more. Where there was one kobold, you could always be sure of more. 

To my right, I saw Angelos race behind the tall stones and lob a javelin at, I presumed, another kobold. Wendelin was by Angelos’ side, but didn’t stop to hurl a weapon, instead sprinting to get to melee range. 

To my left, Seth, in a great burst of speed, reached another kobold by some bushes. The little lizard seemed prepared for him though and stabbed him with his spear. I couldn’t see the extent of the damage from my angle, but whatever the amount, it didn’t drop the elf. Makhen was moving in to assist Seth, but was nowhere near as fast as the elf. 

Looking back, to see what was keeping the others, I saw Kepesh and Amemnon standing on the road, finally realizing that something was afoot. 

I threw another bolt of fire at the kobold fighting Seth, injuring it enough so that Makhen could finish it off.  

Seth, seeing something I could not, dashed off towards a copse of trees, leaving Makhen to stand the reptile once for good measure.  

Another Kobold joined the one Angelos and Wendelin were fighting, keeping them occupied. I was going to alter course to assist them, when I saw a blast of arcane energy streak through the air and decimate Angelos' opponent. 

I knew it had only been mere seconds but the entire scene was pure chaos. 

Kepesh had started off towards where Seth was, so I turned my attention to the north as well. I caught a glimpse of something in the tree. Something with wings. As I started to jog in that direction I threw spell at the thing in the tree.  

Somewhere behind me, Angelos, Wendelin and Amemnon had killed one and captured another. Ahead of me, from om the treed area came a loud ruckus of barking and yipping. There were more close by! I hurried to join Seth and Makhen. 

As I skidded to a halt beside the tree I saw Seth in conversation with a dirty little kobold. It was on it’s belly in the dirt. Makhen had his sword out, pointing it at the vermin. At Makhen’s feet was what looked like the winged kobold I had hit. It had been eviscerated.  

I caught the tail end of Seth telling Makhen they weren’t going to kill it. To the hells with that. I started casting another fire bolt. 

The groveling beast looked from Seth to Makhen, terror in its beady eyes. It clearly understood what was being said.  

“Common, oh! Rhaas speak common.” It said, holding up its little hands imploringly. 

My spell went off, but I missed, no doubt due to the shock of the situation. Since when did we parlay with such beasts. 

I heard movement behind me and turned to see Angelos arrive. Good. Surely he would back me up, that the little evil thing needed to die. 

He cocked his head in the direction of the pathetic yipping. “A Kobold?” Angelos said incredulously, “What are kobolds doing here?” 

Still squirming around on its belly, the thing responded to Angelos’ question. It’s mix of common and yippy draconic was giving me a headache. 

 “No, no, no, Kobolds are…” he dissolved into barks and yips., that part of his story was lost on me. “…Rhaas is, what you can, brood. Brothers. Sisters? That thing…” he motioned to the dead winged kobold at Makhen’s feet. “That thing kidnap us. Cultists, bah!” He spits on the ground. “They came, they came, they hunt us. Kill everybody, everybody.  They came, and took us away.” 

I shifted from one foot to another, annoyed that we were wasting time with this creature. It needed to be ended, so we could get back to work. 

Angelos seemed to have latched onto something it had said though, his whole-body tensing. I heard the creak leather as his grip tightened on the pummel of his sword. “Are you saying those beasts were cultists?” The inflection on his last word was firm. 

As the others in the group showed interest in its appeal, the tiny thing moved form its belly, to its knees, still begging. "Ya! Ya!" Tall ones, like you, humans with masks. They come. They say: You join us. Join Tiamat." 

I had heard of the Cult of Tiamat before. Davros had us search for weeks for signs of them, in Hlondeth. Despite this, I was still not swayed by the little beast. 

"Gaaaah. Tiamat, suck goddess." He spat on the ground. "She no real goddess, we no do Tiamat. We no like. We say: We no do! And then, they kill us." 

Angelos pinched the bridge of his nose, no doubt getting a headache as well from the yipping and yapping of broken Draconic and Kobold. "Does anyone speak this creature's language?" 

"The Dragonborn." I said with a slight hint of sarcasm before glancing about for sign of Kepesh. He was lumbering over from beside the standing stones. 

"So, to be clear..." Angelos continued, head dipped down as he focused on the Kobold. "...these Kobolds belonged to a cult?" 

The little beast shook his head violently, "No, no, no, kobolds, my people, slaves of that asshole." It pointed to winged one's corpse. 

Kepesh pushed past the branches of the tree we were all standing by, war hammer in one hand, shield in the other. The Kobold's face light up. "Dat's good dragon." He pointed, either at Kepesh himself, or the crest of Bahamut on his shield. "My people follow Kurtulmak the Lost. No Tiamat." Once again, he spat on the ground violently. "I am Rhaas, my tribe from grounds under what you call Reaching Woods. We live deep down. Deep, far away from the Gnolls." His little dragonish head spun as he looked form Seth, to Kepesh to Angelos. Just then, Amemnon walked up to join the crowd that now had it surrounded completely. 

Rhaas swallowed hard, nervously, and continued his story. "One day, masked softskins, humans, come with hobgoblins.  Mean, mean people. beat us all. Say Tiamat sent them. they force us into egg cave. They take some, call us special. Top-worlders mean though, break necks, necks of all sons. As they stomp body of our elder into dust." 

Kobolds and cultists? Should some of us split off to ferret out these cultists? I had heard rumors, my first night in Scornubel, that the Kobolds were acting odd. This had to be why. But, what would these cultists want with such vermin? 

I turned my attention back to our prisoner, he was still yapping. ”They tell us, we now follow Tiamat. they took strongest hunters. they pick runners. they tell us of wood of sharp fang...no...teeth...teeth, yes?" He pointed a tiny clawed digit at his teeth. "We supposed to meet other special chosen there. We gather up our belongings. we go. Lucky for me, I have good stuff, good stuff from trades. I hide stuff under cloak. See." 

He opened his little overcoat, showing off the bulging pockets that held all his possessions. "I good at hide stuff. I good at hide. As we leave, we smell smoke. All the tunnels behind us on fire. Everyone not picked dead. They say, the human say heretics den has been purged by Tiamat's will." On cue, he spat again. 

"So they go to find more tribes. And then we go to find other tribes. So, we go." Still kneeling, the kobold's back straightened up as his tone took a firmer, more assured and confident tone.   

"But. I have dream, a good dream, from Kurtulmak. I will make these followers of Tiamat pay. I make them pay...ppppay. I make them hurt, like they make my family hurt. This is the making of my heart, this is my bestest deepest treasure." His story done, he bowed his head a little, waiting for us to decide his fate. 

Kepesh, who had been listening, raptly, "I believe him." He said in a very matter of fact tone. 

"Believe? Who cares if it is true or not, he's a Kobold. He'll stab us in the back soon as he gets a chance. They are evil. "  

"I haven't seen anything evil from him yet." Seth countered with. 

I scoffed at their foolishness, their naivety. 

"What if I gave you a gold, to not set the little lizard on fire." Kepesh offered, and I had no clue if he was mocking me or not. 

"Not even for one hundred." I replied blandly. 

"Two hundred?" 

I snorted. 

Amemnon interrupted, "So, is your brother willing to join us too? How come you turned against the cultists, but the others didn't?" 

Rhaas sighed, shaking his scaly little head. "My brother is good, but not brave. He would probably run away if you brought him. I have the dream, in my heart. Kurtulmak talk to me. Tell me to hurt and kill Tiamat followers. I hate them." And there it was, though a little delayed. Rhaas spit on the ground. 

Amemnon rubbed his chin, thoughtfully and then said. "So, you're in a holy war." He mused. "And who was it that blocked the path? Was it you?" 

Rhaas nodded, "Yah. Yah. They make us do it." 

"And, which one of you threw the rock at my head?" 

Rhaas shifted nervously from one knee to another, "It was Krum. Ash pile." He gave me a hesitant look, as if I might set him on fire for simply making eye contact with me. 

"I need one of you to study. You or your brother. One will live, one will die." Amemnon said, his voice utterly devoid of emption. 

I quirked a brow. That was cold, even by my standards. 

Amemnon pointed to a kobold, laying on the ground, bound, by the ring of large stones. As we turned to look, it was just in time to see Wyndellion plunge his sword deep in the beast's chest. 

"Damn it, Wendelin!" Amemnon exclaimed. 

I looked to Angelos, and murmured under my breath. "This is ridiculous. We got everyone we needed from the beast, put it down, already." 

I seemed to be of the minority on the matter though, and as Seth and Kepesh started discussing what to do with the little monster, I stormed off back to the wagon. When I reached the road, I turned to look back to the others. The kobold was nowhere to be seen. Good riddance. 

Kepesh, Makhen, Wendelin and Seth moved the large rock, clearing the way once more for the wagons. About the time they got everything put back right, Grondar trotted up on his horse. To say he looked annoyed would be an understatement. 

"Hyah. Hurry it up. You Greenhorns are slowing us down." 

I muttered darkly under my breath as I climbed back up onto my horse and road back to my spot down the line. 


	8. Bandits Abound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not the most exciting chapter, IMHO. Combat can be a pain to summarize well, I think. Yes, it feels a little unfinished, I'll round out the ending later.
> 
> * * *

It didn't take long for the caravan to get rolling again, and as Grondar and the other Wellborns road back to the head of the line, myself and the other Greenies took our place in the middle.

Kepesh, Amemnon and Seth were all wearing confused expressions and glancing around. I was sure it had something to do with the Kobold. I wanted no part of that. The fact we had let the beast live had left a bad taste in my mouth.  I spent the next hour muttering on, to myself, about how this mistake would come back to bite us in the ass.  Curses, Kepesh.

The search for the wee beastie didn’t last that long, and when Fayelle’s wagon came into sight, Seth steered his horse over to her. He was hunched over, and clearly not at his best. He was still in bad shape from the hit the Kobold landed on him.

When the little old Halfling saw the state he was in, she sighed deeply, shaking her head.

"Again, Seth?" She asked, scooting over to the side of the bench she was seated on at the front of her wagon. Despite her diminutive size, she had no trouble controlling the wagon team with one hand.

"Yes, another scar. I'm sorry, that one caught me off guard."

"Oh, by the god on the rack, I don't know what I'm going to do with you." She said, as she laid a little hand on his shoulder. She spoke a magic word, and Seth's wounds healed before my eyes. I would never have thought the little Halfling to be a priest. I knew we followed the same god, but not that he had blessed her too.

"I'll be more careful next time. " he said weakly.

"You tell me that each time, you silly fool. You're going to worry me into an early grave." She scolded him fiercely.

The exchange between Fayelle and Seth was the only real activity in the immediate area. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but there was only so much to occupy one's attention.

Plenty to occupy the eyes though. As Angelos approached, I couldn’t help but let my gaze follow him. Even with part of his face covered there was still plenty to admire. Did I feel a little guilty for treating him like so many had me? Perhaps… a little. I couldn’t decide if it made me a bigger piece of dung for reminding myself he couldn’t see me objectifying him. I wondered idly if, after the night we shared, he would even care. Twisting in my saddle slightly, I watched him ride a couple wagons back, to the Dwarf’s.

Sunk far back into the oversized bench seat of the giant wagon, Banaak was clearly still sulking from the day before. Angelos pulled out a tiny sack of coins and tossed them to Banrak.

“What the fook is that for?” his baritone voice boomed. Heads turned three or four horses ahead and behind.

“You earned it.” He said matter-of-factly. “Next time, though, try not to break my dammed arm off. I’m already at disadvantage enough.”

“Auch!” Banrak exclaimed and tossed the purse back. “Keep your dammed pity money.”

Angelos clicked his tongue. “Oh come now. A trade? I know you've got ale in there.”

I perked up. I knew it! I slowed my horse a little, letting Angelos and Banrak draw closer.

The dwarf flustered and leaned forward to glance around. Clearly he had no idea how loud he was. “Now you know full well Grondar doesn’t allow drinking on the trail.”

“Surely he wouldn’t get upset over just a little sip?” Angelos pressed.

“And what makes you think I'd share my ale with you? The Dwarf asked, still sounding cross.

The wagon in front of Banrak’s passed by, and I could hear Angelos more clearly now.

“Oh come now, friend. Didn’t I help you out at the forge?”

“Oh? We’re friends now? Would a friend embarrass a friend in front of everyone? Nay!”

“Surely you can see my side of it? I had to prove myself to the others, or all they would see is a blind man.”

I pulled my horse around, coming up along side Angelos’ and cleared my throat to announce myself.

“Look, when we’ve made camp, come see me.” The Dwarf said, his voice still well above regular conversation levels.

“Mind if I bring a bring a friend?” The blind man asked with a touch of a smile.

Banrak leaned forward on his bench  and cast a grim look in my direction.

The dismissive look from the dwarf cut deep. I hadn’t figured him the hateful type. “I guess he wants you all for himself.“ I said with a mild look of disdain.

As I turned my horse to leave I saw the smile slide from Angelos’ face. I rode back to my spot, a few wagons back up the line. Angelos fell into a comfortable pace beside me and we rode in silence till Blen came around with lunch.

* * *

It was early afternoon when Wendelin came into view, riding down the line of wagons. He stopped alongside Seth and they talked for a long moment. When they were finished, Wendelin road on and Seth came over to our section of the caravan.

“Eyes wide, Greenies. Eyes wide. We’ve reached the ferry. Now, only five can go at a time, so there’s going to be plenty of standing around and waiting. Keep your eyes wide though, never know when something is going to happen.”

Heads bobbed in understanding as Seth went over his instructions.

“Ho, Paladin.” Seth called out to Angelos as we started to pull away.

Angelos perked up and turned his horse back.

“Come with me, we’re going to do a sweep of the wagons. Tori, keep an eye out while we're gone.”

“All right. That is what I’m getting paid to do.” He brought his horse up along side Seth’s and waited.

I nodded lazily. I had already stopped paying attention. “Mmm. Okay.”

As Seth and Angelos rode of, I heard former start to question the latter about the blindfold over his eyes. I wished I could have scryed on that conversation to learn more about Angelos’ sight. It was starting to itch at my mind, how he was able to do what he did.

We had moved up five places by the time Seth and Angelos returned.  The snipped I caught as they drew near had to do with cultists. I assumed they were speaking of the kobold attack earlier.

An hour and a half later, Banrak and his massive wagon was at the head of the line. The forward group of escorts, including all the Wellborns, were already on the other side of the river, leaving just us and Makhen's group.

All things considered, it was a beautiful day to be outside. The sky was clear and the breeze, gentle and warm. It was hard to concentrate on the task at hand, when all I wanted was to find a spot under one of those trees and take a nap.

As I was picking out a tree to rest under, something caught my eye. Not another kobold, as best I could tell, at least, just a man. Not nearly as nefarious, but Seth had warned us to be wary so I opted for a closer look. Sliding off my horse, I strode out into the clearing between the woods and the road.

“Oy, you there! Behind the tree. I see you.” But all the man did was duck farther back behind the tree trunk.

Feeling I needed to get my point across in a firmer fashion, I used a bit of magic to elevate my voice.

“You! Come out now. You’re horrible at hiding. We’ve seen you, no point now...”

I glanced back at the wagons, to see if anyone else had caught sight of the lurker as well. Makhen was looking at me with confusion. Angelos had steered his horse off the road, and was approaching my spot, having no trouble homing in on my louder than normal voice.

As I turned back to check on the man, a bolt whizzed past my face, a little too close for comfort. Another man, dressed in dark leathers stepped out from behind a different tree. Behind me, I heard Seth call out the alarm, "We're under attack! Prepare for combat!"

More bandits revealed themselves, in groups of two, three and even four, from behind bushes and copses of trees. They had wasted their surprise, and we were ready for them.

Makhen, Adol and Ramilda ran for the largest group, to the North, while Seth took off at top speed for group of bushes to my left.  Angelos jumped down off his horse and readied his shield, dashing past me and after Seth.

Another crossbow bolt flew past me, nearly hitting me in the leg this time. I decided it was best I take cover, back by the wagons. I turned to run, and at that moment, a bolt ripped through my shoulder. The pain was staggering, and the force of it knocked me back a couple of steps. Was that singing? Had I been hit so hard it had addled my mind? I took a few deep breaths, trying to get my shit together. 

"Ilmater's scars...that bloody...hurt..." Once I got my wits back, I realized it was that lump, Banrak singing.

Through teary eyes, I saw Angelos coming towards me.  Grabbing his sword in his shield hand, he pulled his glove off with his teeth and reached out towards me. 

"This may sting a bit." He warned, as he placed his hand firmly on my mutilated shoulder and squeezed.

Thinking him making some sort of joke about the effects of his heavenly sourced healing on the likes of me, I chided him. "Sting? It already hurts like..." That was all I could muster before having to grit my teeth in pain. Though as a healing glow passed from his fingers, to me, I made a note to thank him proper later.  The pain receded, and once I could act again, I fell back to take cover.

There were so many of them. Everywhere I looked, we were outnumbered two or three, to one. With the Wellborns and forward guards on the other side of the river, this could turn ugly.

I heard a voice, full of anger, call out "Damned Dark Elf!" Though, from where I was, I could see no Drow.  It must have come from the group to the North.

As I looked back to the field, I saw Angelos dashing to where Seth was fighting a pair of bandits. He paused, only for a moment, to throw a javelin into the fray.  Another pair of ruffians came out of nowhere, flanking Seth. Angelos' javelin whistled through the air, finding a target next to Seth. The bandit dropped with a yelp. The other one fell backwards like a felled tree, as an arrow from nowhere lodged in his throat. The Elf took a moment to wave a hand, "Thank you!" He called out. I did my best to help him as well,  but my bolt of fire missed its mark.

Shocked, I saw Amemnon move from the safety of the wagons, too closer to the fight. I was about to call to him, to come back, when he crumpled to the ground, from what I could only assume, was a crossbow bolt. It was madness to be out in the open! Even more so without armor or magical protection. More bandits seem to be arriving every moment, and all the while, Banrak kept on singing.

I took aim at one of the bandits engaged with Seth. But, before I could finish the spell, an arrow flew up from the riverbank, sinking deep into the outlaw’s throat. Seth’s face flickered momentarily in surprise, before returning his attention to the fight.

Seizing the moment, I dashed forward from the safety of the wagon, driven  by concern for Amemnon. His body had been still for too long. Angelos was still ahead of me, so I skidded into a crouch behind him.

“Don’t mind me.” I called out over the din, identifying myself as a friend. His large armored form made for good cover.

From somewhere to the North came Makhen’s voice: “Take that filthy Dark Elf!”

I shifted to the left as Angelos threw another javelin into the fray, felling another bandit at Seth’s side.

I was about to close the distance to Amemnon when a red scaled hulk in chain mail rushed past me. Shield up to protect himself, Kepesh roared into battle like a man possessed. With his long legged strides he made it to Amemnon in mere seconds. Crouching, protecting them both under his large shield, I saw him breath life back into the fallen Tiefling.

I lobbed a ball of fire at the copse of trees in an attempt to draw the bandits attention away from Kepesh’s rescue.

Out of javelins, Angelos made his way to the center of the fight, just in time to see Seth slashed down his side by one of the bandits. The look on the Elf’s face was one of utter shock, his eyes wide as his knees gave way and he fell into a heap. Angelos repaid the bandit, in kind, cutting him deep in the side if his neck with his long sword, nearly severing his head from his body.

I could feel the tide of the battle starting to turn. The barge, with reinforcements, was almost to the dock. Even if there were more bandits lurking in the woods, there would soon be far more of us as well.

“They’re not at weak as you said they was!” came a pitiful cry from the North, followed by what I could only describe as a howl of triumphant rage. I could only assume it was Makhen again.

I made it the rest if the way to Amemnon. “Seth is down as well.” I told the red scaled priest. I quickly glanced  up and down the field of battle, trying to decide if it was wise to stay put with Amemnon or try to drag him back to safety.  “Brother, we need to move.” I said loudly, trying to get through to him.

Angelos killed the final bandit in the immediate area and used his divine magic to bring Seth back from the brink of the abyss. He helped Seth to his feet and steadied him.

A moment later, wiping the blood from his blade as he walked, Angelos returned to where I was still crouched over Amemnon.

“Is that…” the blind man pointed to the river.

“Is what?” I asked and looked over to where he was pointing. “Son of a whore!” I growled after spotting the diminutive masked figure skulking alone at the riverside.

“So, it is…” Angelos asked again.

“Yesss.” I hissed. “It is still with us.”

As I watched, the masked kobold fired an arrow up the riverbank. There had been another bandit that we had missed. The little ones arrow hit it’s mark, killing the last outlaw in as single shot. Though I was loathe to admit it, the wee beastie did seem to be helping us out on occasion. His actions had hardly turned the tide of battle, I wasn't about to welcome him in with open arms, but I was open to the idea that it might be possible he was different from the rest of his kind.

By the time the barge docked the fight was over, as was Banrak’s song.

A few of the other escorts were wounded. Adol and Kian had a few cuts. Ramilda was covered in blood, but it didn't appear to be her own. I hadn't caught much of the fight that had happened to our north, but it was apparent that Ramilda was a force to be reckoned with. Makhen might have been the loudest, but I wouldn't have been surprised if it was Ramilda that felled the most highway men.

With the barge safely tied off, Seth directed the next set of wagons, including Banrak's, on board. The entire fight with the bandits had lasted mere minutes, and hadn't even impacted our schedule. We were still on time. Thankfully. I was starting to learn that the surest way to anger Grondar was to cause a delay.

I settled back in the saddle and tried to enjoy the ride across the river...


	9. First Night on the Trail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The greenies make it through their first day on the road. Some decide to celebrate having survived the bandit fight.
> 
> * * *

Angelos slid down off his horse, handing it’s reins to me. “I will return in a moment.” He murmured before striding over to Banrak's wagon. They were still in earshot, especially given the dwarf’s volume. 

“You were singing pretty loudly, my friend.” He told the stout dwarf as he leaned in against the front of the wagon. He was peering upwards, but not quite at Banrak. 

“Wha, huh? Was I singing again?” he said with a trace of absentminded confusion.  

“Indeed, you were.” Angelos replied with a dip of his head. “I could hear you, even over the sound of battle.” 

“Oh…” the dwarf rubbed his chin, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “I get a wee bit emotional sometimes. Especially when I’ve had a few tugs on me keg.” The tops of his cheeks, that peeked over his beard, were rosy red from ale. 

Angelos moved in closer at the mention of the kegs, "Don't forget, you promised to share some of that ale with your friend." He said, his lips tugging upwards into a sly grin. 

"Ya, and then you  had to go tell the Tiefling woman about it. I mean, really. I toldya not to tell anyone, and you go tell that woman about it." He scoffed, "Gosh!" 

I couldn’t help but chuckle. The dwarf was obviously oblivious to how far his voice carried. 

Angelos'  grin turned into a broad smile, "First off, your secret will not stay such, if you keep speaking so loudly. Just like you did before..." 

I took a half a dozen steps forward and threw our horses reins over the door of the large wagons. I gave a fake cough, to announce myself, and when Banrak looked my way, I smiled at him. 

"Hello sweetie, hello lassie. How are ye?" He asked, his cheeks still colored. 

"Trust me, friend." Angelos explained, "She heard every word, this time, and last." He moved his arm, like he was going to place it around my waist, but decided against it at the last moment. 

"Dammit! So, I...err...well, look, its like this, after we set up camp,  you all come visit me. We'll tell stories while I work. If I'm able to, that is." He said with a wide grin. 

"All right, then. We will see you tonight." Angelos said, as he felt for the reins. He took them both, and lead our horses back to the front of the ferry. I gave Banrak a little courtesy and then turned to catch up with Angelos. 

When the ferry docked at the other side, we were greeted by Grondar and Jhonas. As the wagons, the first from our section, rolled down the plank, their riders all told the same tale to the Wellborn brothers. 

"You should have seen them..." 

"They decimated those bandits! It was amazing!" 

"They saved us all!" 

A halfling couple appeared to be al ready working on a song about the encounter.  

I could hear Banrak, his wagon already a good ways down the road, singing again.  At least now, the song was a happier sort of ditty. 

As I rode past Grondar, I heard him curse, "Oh that fooking Dwarf. He's drunk again." He spat. 

"He's just in a good mood." I said, cheerfully as I passed. 

Grondar didn't comment, but Jhonas gave me one of the most hateful sneers I've ever received. 'Shut up, lass." 

My smile faded, and as I passed the sour old troll, I muttered darkly about his balls on a pike. 

 

 

It took a couple more hours to get the last of the wagons across the river, and the train travelled for only another hour after that, before pulling off to the side and circling up. Leobreos and Villeta appeared from the tree line, their horses both weighed down with game. 

The others, and I, decided on our watch order for the night, and then set up camp. After a hearty meal of venison and vegetables, Angelos and I made our way to Banrak's wagons. He had it turned in such a way that the lowered lift in the back was obscured from the road.  There was a fire set up outside, and it lit up the entire interior of the giant wagon. Inside, there was a full forge, complete with tools and trade bars of metal. Four kegs strapped to the wall, and a fifth tipped over and tapped. A small stool and chair sat beside a simple table. 

Banrak greeted us with open arms. "Come in, come in, and welcome to my lair. I hope you brought your cups and your thirst." He had managed to lowered his voice, but only slightly. "Just don't be telling Grondar." He said with a wink and then patted the tiny stool, beckoning me over. 

"Seth! Why so greedy?" Banrak called out. Seth was at the keg, filling not only his cup, but his water skin as well. "Sit, drink with us!" 

Seth stiffened slightly, "Oh. It's for...a friend. He's on watch. I didn't want him to miss out on such a treat." 

Banrak beamed with pride, "A treat indeed. Finest ale this side of the Chionthar River." 

Angelos had found a crate in a corner to sit on and had made himself quite comfortable, leaning back against the wall of the wagon, his long legs stretched out in front of him. I had not noticed before, but how at home he seemed to be in his armor, not moving like he was weighed down by it's encumbrance. I dragged the little stool closer to him, leaning back against the wall.  

I could say this about him, he could put away the ale at an impressive rate. He might have been nearly a foot and a half taller than I, and over twice my weight, but the ale seemed to go straight to his head. I had only just filled by cup for a second time, the warm glow of the alcohol only just beginning to spread out across by body, but Angelos was already on his fourth and had the dumbest grin plastered across that handsome face. 

Tipsily, I reached up and traced a finger tip across the fine scar on his face.  He turned his face, to smile down at me and grabbed my finger in his free hand. He held it to his lips, giving the tip of it a solitary kiss. 

Banrak, several glasses of ale in as well, laughed heartily. "Now, now, you two. I'll have none of that in my wagon." 

"Agreed." Seth chimed in with, "It's enough to have to hear it, let alone see it as well." The Elf pushed himself to his feet and stretched out his long, lanky limbs. 

Angelos' brows raised up, and he joined Banrak's booming laugh.  

I was saved by commenting, interrupted by Kepesh's voice as he walked past the wagon. "Your watch, Seth." No doubt he had heard Seth's voice coming from the wagon. Hopefully our voices weren't carrying too far. 

I looked out of the wagon in time to see the large dragonborn disappear into his tent. Seth set down his cup and hopped down out of the wagon, likewise disappearing off into the night. 

Leaning back against Angelos, I made myself comfortable, sinking into the pleasant fog of alcohol, a foolish grin across my face as well. Despite whatever happened the rest of the  night, I knew I would sleep solidly tonight, the ale would do the trick. It always did. 

Over the course of Seth's four hour watch various other guards came by to snag a sampling of Banrak's ale. Some stayed to make small talk with the dwarf, others hurried off to their own business. The camp was quiet for the most part, but in the distance I could hear sounds coming from the other wagon circles. The only sounds in the immediate area were coming from Kepesh's tent, a soft growling sound I assumed being what passed for the dragonborn equivalent of snoring. 

By the time Seth came back to get me for my watch Banrak was close to drifting off to sleep, his breathing getting heavier, sounding like the precursor to snoring. Angelos looked like he wasn’t that far off from the same.  "I'll be back in a couple hours." I murmured to him before leaving the wagon. 

The noises coming from Kepesh's tent had gotten louder as well, deeper and more fitful sounding. I debated waking him to see if he was alright, but I didn't want to get a face full of dragon's breath. It was always best to let sleeping dragons lie. 

Amemnon's tent was quiet, and I didn't see Seth anywhere. 

The first part of my watch went without incident, which was a blessing, as I was still fairly tipsy. I managed to make it all the way to the far end of the wagon circles without tripping over my own feet. As I was on my way back to the middle section, a figure stepped out form between two wagons. I took a step or two backwards, nearly tripping over my tail. I breathed a sigh of relief, though only a small one, when I realized it was Wendelin. 

He looked me up and down, but not in the fashion I was used it, though his eyes lingering on my tail and horns. "I hear you did well in the fight today." His voice was gruff, but from age, not disdain. 

I shrugged, "It wasn't without incident, but they're all dead, and we're not. So I guess that makes it a victory." 

He nodded as he listened, "What were they? Just highway men?" He asked. 

"I think I heard something about a Dark Elf." I said, slowly, focusing on each word as a single entity. I wasn't sure how long I could hide my tipsiness. 

He raised a brow in slight surprise. Apparently no one had mentioned that part to  him yet. "From who?" 

"Um...Makhen, I think it was him screaming blood murder about Dark Elves." 

"Ah, yes. He's not very fond of those." Wendelin said knowingly. "Well, I'm glad you all showed your metal and we – the company – appreciate it." 

I hoped that all he had to say, I was finding it hard not to sway while I stood. I didn't want to kill all the good will Wendelin had just imparted. 

He grinned slightly, and for a moment I wondered if he was on to me. Could he read my mind? Finally, he tipped his head in my direction and walked off, disappearing back into the night. 

 

 

With my watch coming to a close soon and the ale wearing off, I decided to go find Angelos. I had it in mind to see if he couldn't be convinced into a quick tumble before his watch started. 

It didn't take too much effort to find him. He wasn't at Banrak's wagon, but I found him standing out in the field between it and the tree line. He was either lost or completely intoxicated. Or both. He was moving aimlessly, looking back and forth. I managed to sneak up on him, popping up right in front of him. 

"You're going the wrong way." I said with a sly grin, that was lost on the blind man. Could he have seen my expression, then no doubt he would have been able to suss out my intentions. Once again, I took his hand and lead his drunk arse off away from the camp. 

"That ale is still hitting me fairly hard." He said with a giggle I would have expected from a little girl. He moved his head around erratically for a moment, "Wait, this is the way I just came from." He said as he followed along. "So either I just took a piss on the side of someone's wagon, or you're leading me off to the bushes to have your way with me." 

There was something about the way he said it, a drunken conspiratorial whisper, that made me laugh heartily. "And if I was?" I asked, squeezing his hand. From his tone I assumed he was more than willing.

"Then I would say that his has the all the makings of a pretty fine first night on the job." I couldn't help but laugh as he swayed in his feet.

"But wait...wait..." He stopped suddenly, and the surprise of it jerked me back a step. "Your honor." He said with a slight slur to his speech.

"Oh, gods. It's not some filthy alleyway. I think my honor will survive." I laughed again, shaking my head in amusement. The fact he was concerned with my honor, that he remembered, that he cared, just made me like him even more. He really was too good for me.

He nodded, "Good. Good! Because, I've already forgotten what you look like naked." He said, clapping his hands and rubbing them together in anticipation.

I kicked off my boots. "Look like?" I asked, cocking my head to the side in confusion. I had my pants half off, but his comment caught me off guard.

His jaw went slack for a moment, his mouth round in a surprised ‘O’. To explain, he quickly held up his hands, making a groping motion. "A blind man's joke."

"Oh." I chuckled, "Well, feel free to steal a 'look' whenever you wish." And even though she couldn’t see it, I half turned and shook my rump at him.

"I will do my very best to remember that when I sober up. It’s an extremely important detail.” He said with a grin and then clumsily unfastened his long cloak, laying it out in the grass in front of him.

"My lady..." He gestured. "I don't believe, in my current state, I could handle you in any fashion, but on my back." He then started fiddling with his belt, dropping his sword to the ground as well.

I shook my head, utterly bemused by his drunken antics. "Don't worry, my dear, you can just lay back, and I'll do all the work tonight." He was still fumbling with his britches; in the time I had gotten fully naked.

"You are an angel." He said with full drunken sincerity as he fought with his boot, falling backwards onto his arse as he struggled with it. “Oof!” I helped straighten him up, pausing to run through my fingers through his long brown hair as I stood in the buff before him. He leaned in close and brushed his lips lightly across the smooth skin of my stomach, the cloth around his eyes tickled at my breasts.

“Lay back.” I whispered and when he complied I took over undoing and removing whatever of his armor and clothing was required for our drunken tumble. As I went for the blindfold around his eyes, one of his hands moved to stop me, but I swatted it away.  I scolded him with a slight hiss, my fingers running through his long brown hair as I pushed it aside.  It didn't matter to me that he couldn't see me, I wanted that connection, to look into his eyes. Even in his drunken state, he was still an enjoyable lover and he managed to not injure my tail this time. I made a mental note to approach him about trying it sober tomorrow night.

It was close to sun up by the time we made it back to the tents. Angelos went to wake up Amemnon while I crawled into my bedroll. It must have started to drift off immediately, as I only vaguely remember the lump that was twice my size, falling into place beside me. I cared not that he smelled of ale and campfire, rolling over to curl up next to him for warmth regardless.


End file.
